Why Osborne's new lending scheme won't work

If consumers are determined to hoard cash, who will borrow?

The likelihood is that George Osborne's new bank lending scheme, announced last night in his Mansion House speech, will neither revive the economy nor the Tories' moribund poll ratings (they currently trail Labour by 12 points).

Osborne has always said that he and David Cameron are "fiscal conservatives but monetary activists" and more monetary activism is what we're getting. Under a new "funding for lending" scheme, worth up to £80bn, the Bank of England will provide cheap loans to banks for several years, at below market rates, in exchange for them lending the money to households and small and medium-sized businesses. In addition, the snappily-titled Extended Collateral Term Repo Facility will lend banks a minimum of £5bn a month in the form of six month loans to them. The aim of both schemes is to stimulate the economy by increasing loans to credit-starved businesses and households. But will they work? Almost certainly not.

There is increasing evidence that the UK is caught in a liquidity trap, a situation in which confidence is so low that looser monetary policy (e.g. increasing the money supply or lowering interest rates) has no positive effect on the economy. If consumers and businesses are determined to hoard cash (as is common in a recession), then the new loans will not be taken up. As for those willing to borrow, many are so indebted that the banks won't lend to them anyway. Put simply, the creditworthy won't take loans and the uncreditworthy won't get them.

It is in such circumstances that the government must act as a spender of last resort and engage in fiscal stimulus (higher spending and lower taxes), as Ed Balls has repeatedly argued. Since Osborne is so fond of boasting of the UK's historically low bond yields (although they owe more to the Bank of England's quantitative easing programme than to his deficit reduction programme), the least he could do is take advantage of them. He should increase borrowing to fund higher infrastructure spending (the most effective stimulus, according to the Office for Budget Responsibility) and tax cuts.

As for the politics, they're not great for Osborne either. As Tory MP Douglas Carswell, an increasingly vociferous critic of the Chancellor, noted on Twitter: "Print-money-and-give-to-banks (govt) V Print-money-and-give-ppl (Balls). Guess which will play better in studio debates?"

In a recent essay in the New York Review of Books, Paul Krugman sagely observed that "the economic strategy that works best politically isn’t the strategy that finds approval with focus groups, let alone with the editorial page of The Washington Post; it’s the strategy that actually delivers results." If Osborne wants to restore his political reputation (he is both Chancellor and the Tories' chief election strategist) and give the Tories a faint hope of forming another government, he should adopt a plan that works. But first he must learn the lesson of the 1930s - you can't cut your way out of a recession, but you can spend your way out of one. And in these depressed times, only big government has the firepower to do so. 

Chancellor George Osborne delivered his annual Mansion House address last night. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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How should Labour's disgruntled moderates behave?

The price for loyalty looks like being long-term opposition. Sometimes exiting can be brave.

When Albert O. Hirschman was writing Exit, Voice, Loyalty: Responses to decline in Firms, Organizations, and States he wasn’t thinking of the British Labour Party.  That doesn’t mean, though, that one of the world’s seminal applications of economics to politics can’t help us clarify the options open to the 80 to 90 per cent of Labour MPs who, after another week of utter chaos, are in total despair at what’s happening under Jeremy Corbyn.

According to Hirschman, people in their situation have essentially three choices – all of which stand some chance, although there are no guarantees, of turning things around sooner or later.

The first option is simply to get the hell out: exit, after all, can send a pretty powerful, market-style signal to those at the top that things are going wrong and that something has to change.

The second option is to speak up and shout out: if the leadership’s not listening then complaining loudly might mean they get the message.

The third option is to sit tight and shut up, believing that if the boat isn’t rocked it will somehow eventually make it safely to port.

Most Labour MPs have so far plumped for the third course of action.  They’ve battened down the hatches and are waiting for the storm to pass.  In some ways, that makes sense.  For one thing, Labour’s rules and Corbyn’s famous ‘mandate’ make him difficult to dislodge, and anyone seen to move against him risks deselection by angry activists.

For another, there will be a reckoning – a general election defeat so bad that it will be difficult even for diehards to deny there’s a problem: maybe Labour has to do ‘déjà vu all over again’ and lose like it did in 1983 in order to come to its senses. The problem, however, is that this scenario could still see it stuck in opposition for at least a decade. And that’s presuming that the left hasn’t so effectively consolidated its grip on the party that it can’t get out from under.

That’s presumably why a handful of Labour MPs have gone for option two – voice.  Michael Dugher, John Woodcock, Kevan Jones, Wes Streeting and, of course, John Mann have made it pretty clear they think the whole thing’s a mess and that something – ideally Jeremy Corbyn and those around him – has to give.  They’re joined by others – most recently Stephen Kinnock, who’s talked about the party having to take ‘remedial action’ if its performance in local elections turns out to be as woeful as some are suggesting.  And then of course there are potential leadership challengers making none-too-coded keynote speeches and public appearances (both virtual and real), as well as a whole host of back and frontbenchers prepared to criticise Corbyn and those around him, but only off the record.

So far, however, we’ve seen no-one prepared to take the exit option – or at least to go the whole hog. Admittedly, some, like Emma Reynolds, Chuka Umunna, Dan Jarvis, Yvette Cooper, and Rachel Reeves, have gone halfway by pointedly refusing to serve in Corbyn’s Shadow Cabinet.  But nobody has so far declared their intention to leave politics altogether or to quit the party, either to become an independent or to try to set up something else.

The latter is easily dismissed as a pipe-dream, especially in the light of what happened when Labour moderates tried to do it with the SDP in the eighties.  But maybe it’s time to think again.  After all, in order to refuse even to contemplate it you have to believe that the pendulum will naturally swing back to Labour at a time when, all over Europe, the centre-left looks like being left behind by the march of time and when, in the UK, there seems precious little chance of a now shrunken, predominantly public-sector union movement urging the party back to the centre ground in the same way that its more powerful predecessors did back in the fifties and the late-eighties and nineties. 

Maybe it’s also worth wondering whether those Labour MPs who left for the SDP could and should have done things differently.  Instead of simply jumping ship in relatively small numbers and then staying in parliament, something much bolder and much more dramatic is needed.  What if over one hundred current Labour MPs simultaneously declared they were setting up ‘Real Labour’?  What if they simultaneously resigned from the Commons and then simultaneously fought scores of by-elections under that banner?

To many, even to ask the question is to answer it. The obstacles – political, procedural, and financial – are formidable and forbidding.  The risks are huge and the pay-off massively uncertain.  Indeed, the whole idea can be swiftly written off as a thought-experiment explicitly designed to demonstrate that nothing like it will ever come to pass.

On the other hand, Labour MPs, whether we use Hirschman’s three-way schema or not, are fast running out of options.  The price for loyalty looks like being long-term opposition.  Voice can only do so much when those you’re complaining about seem – in both senses of the word – immovable.  Exit, of course, can easily be made to seem like the coward’s way out. Sometimes, however, it really is the bravest and the best thing to do.

Tim Bale is professor of politics at QMUL. His latest book, Five Year Mission, chronicles Ed Miliband's leadership of the Labour party.